In sleep, dream
by UnderlandsCreator
Summary: Sometimes, Tom meets a green eyed boy in dreams that feel too real. The oddest part about the whole thing though, is that he doesn't want them to stop.
1. Chapter 1

Tom hated the orphanage, there was no doubt about that.

It was dirty and worn down, it was always freezing in the winter, and overly hot in the summer. But the worse part had to be the other occupants.

He was better than the other children around him, who were only concerned about playing one stupid game or another, and making _friends_ with each other.

Tom was smarter than them, better than them, and if that meant that the only friend he had was himself, than all the better. He didn't _need,_ or _want_ , someone constantly bothering him, and taking his attention away from his books.

He was better off by himself.

That being said, he was more than a little confused to find himself outside, sitting on the ground on one side of the black gate that went around the entire orphanage, facing a boy who was seated on the other side, the yard empty save for the two of them.

Tom didn't recognize the boy on the other side of the fence, though he was wearing clothes as equally worn down as Tom's, and looked to be about the same age as him, he knew that the boy wasn't from the orphanage.

The boy had messy black hair, skin as pale as Tom's, bright green eyes, and a hand shaped bruise on one skinny arm.

"Who are you?" Tom asked, staring at the boy with narrowed eyes.

"No one. Who are you?" the boy said, his head tilted slightly to the side in curiosity.

"Tom, and that wasn't an answer. What's your name?"

"Hmm, I don't think that I'll tell you, at least not yet." the boy said, an irritating little smile on his face that Tom couldn't help but feel annoyed by.

First the boy says that he's no one, and then he refuses to give his name after Tom gave his. Who did he think that he was talking to?

"Well, no one, I'm sorry, but I don't have time to talk to people that don't exist."

"Really? Do you have someone to talk to then? Because it doesn't seem like it."

"What would you know-!"

"I know enough. You're like me, I can tell. You're alone, but you don't have to be, not anymore.

You're a someone that could use a no one, and I'm a no one that could use a someone. "

"I don't need anyone," Tom corrected, "I'm fine by myself, it doesn't matter if I'm alone."

"You might not need anyone, but it would be nice to have a friend, at least I think so, I've never actually had a friend before." the boy said, though it was like he was partially talking to Tom, and partially to himself

"Why should I-" Tom started to ask, before he was cut off.

"Why not?" the boy asked, sticking his hand through the bars of the fence.

Tom was brought up short by the boy's question, and he looked at his hand for a long second, debating with himself about whether or not he should take it.

He still didn't feel like he needed a friend, and he didn't know why, but something about the boy felt different from everyone else that he knew. After all, there had to be some reason why Tom had continued to talk to the boy, when if it was anyone else, he wouldn't even bother looking at them. The boy somewhat reminded Tom of himself, so maybe it would be fine if the one friend he had was like him.

Decision made, Tom brought his own hand up to take the boys.

"Fine." Tom said, shaking the boy's hand, "Now will you tell me your name?"

"Next time. It was nice talking to you, but you have to wake up now Tom." the boy said, letting go of his hand as he moved to stand up, leaving Tom to stare up at him in confusion.

"Wake up? What-" Tom started to ask, but between one blink of his eyes and the next, he was no longer staring up at the boy, or in the yard of the orphanage. Instead, he was staring up at the water stained ceiling of his room, the old scratchy blanket he used to cover himself up with prickling at his skin.

He slowly sat up, and looked at his hand, which still held a faint warmth from when the boy that he had apparently dreamed about had held it.

Everything pointed towards him having dreamed the whole thing up, but he wasn't pathetic enough to have dreamed up a friend because he was feeling lonely.

No, the only answer was that the boy really was like him, was special like him, with the power to enter other people's dreams.

He knew that he was right to think that the boy was different, and now all he had to do was wait until the next time he fell asleep to question him about it.


	2. Chapter 2

**_I know you..._**

Tom was dancing with someone in an unfamiliar room.

There were people all around him, dressed in masks, spinning and twirling around with their partners, just as he was.

 ** _I've walked with you..._**

He looked around, but everything had a vague quality to it, and he couldn't even make out what the faces of the people closest to him looked like.

Soft music was playing, and a woman was singing.

He could barely make out what she was saying, her voice fading in and out, but he caught the word dream.

 _ **Once upon a dream.**_

Was he dreaming? The last thing he remembered doing was leaving the Slytherin common room to head up to his room.

He could have fallen asleep once he got there, but he didn't feel like he was dreaming.

He felt wide awake.

 ** _I know you..._**

"You know, Tom, it isn't very nice to ignore your dancing partner." A voice close to his ear suddenly spoke out, and Tom brought his attention back to the person that he had continued to dance with, even while he was thinking.

 ** _That gleam in your eyes..._**

He looked down, and met the stare of a pair of eerie bright green eyes, that seemed oddly familiar.

 ** _Is so familiar a gleam._**

He was dancing with a boy that was shorter than him, with messy black hair, and familiar green eyes, who had a smile on his face that looked like he was hiding a secret.

"What's the matter Tom, cat got your tongue?" the boy spoke again, and Tom glared at him, before throwing him out in a spin, though the boy only laughed at the sudden movement.

"Who are you?" Tom asked once he brought the boy close to him again.

The boy looked at him, and Tom could have sworn that he caught a flash of sadness on the boy's face, before his ever present smile returned.

 _ **And I know it's true...**_

"I'm happy that you're here, Tom, but you have to leave soon." the boy said, completely ignoring his question.

Just then, the air seemed to shimmer, and then they weren't in the ballroom anymore, though he could still hear the woman singing.

All the people had disappeared, and they were now standing in a field, a tall black fence separating them.

 ** _That visions are seldom all they seem._**

"What's going on?" Tom demanded, refusing to continue walking as the boy was doing on the other side of the fence.

"Doesn't this bring back memories Tom?" the boy asked, ignoring him, _again,_ as he ran one of his hands along the fence as he walked.

 _ **But if I know you...**_

"Considering I don't know where we are, or who _you_ are, no, none of this is making me remember anything." Tom sighed, finally walking forward. As it was, the boy was already a few feet ahead of him, and if he continued to stand where he was, he knew that he would lose sight of him completely.

The boy looked at him curiously, one hand wrapped around a bar of the fence, and the sight of him like that, his image slightly blocked by the bars of the fence, brought back that nagging sense of familiarity that had been bothering Tom from the moment he had first laid eyes on him.

"Really? How odd. Maybe you just need to take a closer look.

"Come on." the boy said, stretching his hand out between the bars, as if silently asking Tom to take it.

 _ **...I know what you'll do...**_

Of course he didn't, but he decided to humor the boy anyway, stepping closer to the fence, but bypassing the boys hand completely.

The boy let his hand fall back to his side, the smile on his face still there, like he was expecting his reaction, and wasn't bothered by it in the slightest.

 ** _...you'll love me at once..._**

Looking at it closer, Tom did have to admit that the fence did seem oddly familiar, like it was important, but it wasn't the fence itself that gave off that feeling, but the picture that the boy made, standing behind it.

The whole scene felt odd, like he was just on the cusp of remembering something important, but the memory kept escaping him.

"Is it coming back to you now? It would be nice if you remembered before you left." the boy said, leaning his forehead on the bars, and looking at Tom through them.

"No, it isn't, and where am I supposed to be going? You mentioned me having to leave earlier, when we were in the ballroom."

"You have to go back to where you are." the boy answered, the tone of his voice saying without him having to, that what he had just said was obvious, and he couldn't believe that Tom hadn't figured it out himself.

"And since you're having so much trouble, I'll give you a hint. Think of a home that isn't."

 _ **...the way you did once...**_

A home that isn't? What kind of hint was that? Tom wondered, staring at the fence again.

The only thing he could think of that might match that description was the orphanage, but how would the boy have known what orphanage he had went to?

And more than that, why would that matter? He knew for a fact that the boy didn't live in the orphanage, he would have remembered him, wouldn't he?

"Hopefully you'll figure it out next time. I'm sorry Tom, but you have to leave now." the boy said, looking apologetic as he straightened up and took a few steps away from the fence.

Again, the boy's eyes were sad as he looked at him, and again Tom was hit by the feeling that he knew the boy, and a sense of wrongness that he couldn't remember him.

"Wake up."

 _ **...upon a dream.**_

When he opened his eyes, he found that he was laying in his bed, the green eyes of the boy replaced with the dark green, almost black hangings surrounding him on every side.

He was...he was in his dorm, and even as he lay back, one of his arms thrown across his eyes, he could feel the dream fading away, even as he tried to hold onto it.

Tom's last thoughts before he got up to get ready, were about the odd song, and the boy, who, oddly enough, he missed, despite not knowing anything about him, not even his name.

Though it truly did feel like they had met before, in another place, perhaps, or maybe...maybe once upon a dream.


End file.
